


Quid Pro Quo

by AlexeCinz



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gency Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexeCinz/pseuds/AlexeCinz
Summary: Genji's body is failing to mesh with the advanced cybernetics and he grows tired of life. To heal him, Angela has to compromise her medical ethics and make a deal with Moira.A fic/pic combo for Gency Week 2020, Day 2, under the prompt “Rain”. A warning for mild body horror.
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Quid Pro Quo

How long he had drifted in a haze of confusion, he did not know. In reality it had been 27 days since Hanzo left him for dead, 13 since he was taken off life support. He could not see the medical team surrounding him, but there was a whirring sound and the rip of plastic bags being opened, the gurgle of tubes being drained of fluid. 

“Fluid clear, no infection,” said a woman’s voice. He felt soothed by it. Not for long.

The pain came without warning, far worse than the last and deepest of Hanzo’s cuts. He did not know that they were inserting the spinal implant that would allow him to control his cybernetics, only that every inch of him was ablaze with agony. It was as if each nerve was being pulled from his body and shredded down to its individual fibres. A searing light filled his mind - and then, just as abruptly - nothing.

They removed the shade from his eyes. “Open your fist…“ On his right, a dark blob slowly sharpened into focus. The fist unclenched, the coordinated movement of carbon fibre and titanium joints. 

“Now close…” Again, the thing obeyed. This hand, this arm, surely it wasn’t his. 

* * *

Day 50. His body trailed an obscene collection of wires and tubes. One foot in front of the other. They were encouraging him like he was a child; yet he was more marionette than child. His brain made the commands, somehow the body obeyed. The marionette could do all these things.

Still, it was unnatural - he was observing his own body from afar rather than inhabiting it. He had sensors, not sensation. The humanoid chassis was responsive, powerful. Yet much like the sports cars and bikes he used to collect, the body was just a machine, not a part of him. The most disconcerting thing was that this _otherness_ extended to his own flesh. He stared at the skin of his left palm, at the whorls and loops of his fingerprints. It might as well have been a wax hand. 

* * *

“I… feel nothing." 

Day 60 and his condition had sharply deteriorated. He was losing control. The medics whispered " _somatoparaphrenia_ ” while the engineering team murmured “ _asynchrony_ ”. Whatever the terminology, he knew his human brain was rejecting the cyborg body. It was beginning to shut down even the organic portion of his body, a spiralling retreat into itself.

“Just take it slowly, Genji." Dr Ziegler was at his bedside again. He couldn’t decide whether he hated her, or was grateful for her constant presence. "Cybernetics say they have tuned the systems to avoid saturating, otherwise you’d be in constant pain. That’s a good thing, Genji.“ She paused. “It’s also partly due to internal scarring. We only found you hours after your… injuries were inflicted, so your healing was impaired. Now, the nanobiotic therapy is meant to help you regain sensation without pain. And with sensation you will regain control. It will take time. I know this sounds unscientific, but please try to visualise your recovery, and it will help you.”

 _Visualise my recovery_. All he could visualise was his reflection in the support tank where they had placed him after surgery. A ghastly broken thing, limbs and vitals hanging by mere threads. 

_Visualise_ … He watched from some strange vantage point on the ceiling as Hanzo carved up his body. It wasn’t cutting, it was hacking.

 _Vis…_ Hanzo pursuing him relentlessly, sword raised. His eyes devoid of recognition. _You are not my brother. You are not a man._  
  


* * *

"Asset isn’t fit for purpose. Reyes wants to explore alternatives.” For the Strike Commander, everything reduced to binaries. With us or against us. Mission success or failure. He gave Angela a searching look. "The cyborg enhancements aren’t holding.”

“The body responds best when mind and spirit are also ready to heal.” Angela avoided Morrison’s gaze by looking at her clipboard. “It’s a process.”

Jack Morrison shook his head, trying not to let impatience override his respect for the good doctor. Usually he left Blackwatch business well alone. Reyes had been the one to ask for the asset, and now that it wasn’t panning out, he was pushing for aggressive interventions. _Hand Shimada to O'Deorain. If he can’t function as a weapon_ , Reyes had said, _extract his memories and use his tissue for experimentation._

“I know what you’re thinking and I won’t support it,“ said Angela, barring his way.

Morrison pinched the bridge of his nose.

* * *

100 days. They had removed the cybernetics. To give some semblance of dignity, they had fitted deadweight silicone prosthetics instead. The appendages filled Genji with disgust. Every morning he would be placed in the nanobiotic cradle, the iridescent fluid entering the port on his right side, but nothing improved. 

“How do you feel today, Genji?“

Silence. From overheard conversations he now knew Dr Ziegler’s first name was Angela. Always she tried small talk, tedious meanderings on the weather, Switzerland, the latest news. He hated the empty chatter, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to hate _her_ as a person.

“I mean is there any discomfort, any change in your - ?“

“Nothing.” He was numb inside and out. In the midst of all this, Morrison had casually reminded him of the terms under which Overwatch had extracted him. He had made an agreement to render all information and assistance needed to take down the criminal Shimada syndicate. In return, he would face no prosecution. There were no other guarantees.

She feigned cheerfulness. “Remember, let me know if there is anything I can do, anything at all.”

Genji looked her straight in the eye for the first time. “Let me die as a man, not as an experiment.” He let his head sink back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.  
  


* * *

_Let me die as a man._ It had taken every ounce of control not to let her anguish show. She knew a little about the Shimada clan and its shadowy dealings. Surely this was Genji’s chance at freedom, a new start. She had wanted to tell him : _You will get to the other side_. His bleak face had stopped her.

But how would he get to the other side, in this state worse than death? The knot in Angela’s stomach tightened. She had pushed nanobiotic therapy to the limit, and it could go no further. Perhaps it was time to give up. Because the alternative was a dark and unprincipled path. 

_Maybe I just fear failure._ Angela Ziegler had spent her entire life as an over-achiever. The idea that she might be wrong tormented her. No, there was an even greater fear driving her. She had seen countless victims of terrorism, violence, but none had ever been so badly torn apart as Genji and survived. The idea that she had saved a man’s life, only to condemn him to a monstrous twilight existence, gnawed at her. 

She had been standing in the corridor, waiting, for an hour now. Moira and McCree continued their heated argument in the shooting range, a petty bickering over Blackwatch and Reyes’ direction. She could wait no longer. Summoning her resolve, she strode in. “Dr O'Deorain, might I have a word?”

McCree looked relieved to be given an exit. “I’ll let you _ladies_ get cosy…” ‘Ladies’ bore a distinct edge of sarcasm, and he was gone with a flourish of his hat.

Moira arched an eyebrow, mentally calculating what had brought the Swiss doctor to seek an audience. Eventually her wide mouth stretched into a smile. “Ah, Angela. Have you twigged that you need a favour from me, pet?”

Angela frowned at the mock endearment. “Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be, Moira." 

Moira steepled her fingers. "It’s not hard for me at all. If you spare us the hypocrisy, it could go quite easily for you too.” She pretended to ponder. “Now, what were we going to talk about? The new asset, Shimada? Your therapies aren’t working.”

“He’s put up a psychological barrier. It prevents him from maximising his healing factor. I need to help him overcome it." 

"Psychological - ” Moira rolled her eyes. “Do I look like a shrink? If you honestly believed that, you wouldn’t be here.” She examined her long, curved fingernails. “As you know, Reyes has been pestering Morrison to turn Shimada into cell culture for my experiments.”

Angela forced herself to remain civil. “I’ve strongly advised them against it. There are other recourses.”

Surprisingly, Moira dropped hostilities fairly quickly. “Reyes is so simple-minded I could laugh. Let’s be frank, one professional to another.” She leaned close and tilted her head sidewise. “I sense a collaboration is in the offing.”

Angela stood her ground and took a deep breath. “I think we each have something the other needs for their work. Reyes’ regenerative ability is unstable. You’ve tried to re-engineer his DNA to better control apoptosis, but that only increases the risk of malignant mutations. In my opinion, you need nanobiotic signalling to create a well-regulated extrinsic pathway.”

“Oh, the mistakes were made before my time,” said Moira nonchalantly. “The government soldier enhancement programme? What a farce. With Reyes, shall we say, I’m just trying to make the best of a bad situation. But still, I’m open to anything that will deliver outcomes.” She switched the subject back to Genji. “Shimada’s issues lie in the spinal implant. It doesn’t have his DNA signature. Without that, his nervous system will never bind to the cybernetics.”

Angela suppressed her pride, and acknowledged this with a nod. “So… my nanobiotic relays could help Reyes - ”

“And you’ll need my DNA meshing expertise for Shimada. Quid pro quo, my dear colleague. I’m just amused you’re willing to cross the boundary to where I - uh - operate." 

DNA meshing had been banned for years. The concern was that combining human genetic material with synthetics could create unsanctioned life forms. The mesh itself was based on virus structures, adding another dimension of bioweaponry risk. Angela knew Moira’s knowledge of this area had come from years of highly questionable experiments on animals, omnics, humans. She knew this, and it did not hold her back. 

"Don’t be amused. Be discreet.”

Moira seemed to notice something on Angela’s lab coat. Reaching out, she slowly plucked a black hair off the lapel, regarding it as if it was a particularly delicious morsel. Indeed, it was as if she could see into its very cells and the secret codes they held within. She smirked. “My lab or yours?”

Angela did not flinch. It would be an uneasy alliance, but they had an understanding.  
  


* * *

Day 156. She splashed water on her face, ruefully regarding the dark circles around her eyes. Usually she rose and retired early, but the secrecy of her arrangement with Moira had necessitated weeks of late night work. A few days before, Torbjorn had chanced upon her coming out of the Blackwatch wing in the wee hours. She gave the excuse that Morrison had asked her to pass a file to Reyes, not that Torbjorn believed it.

She’d crossed the boundary, as Moira called it. Angela wiped her hands on the towel and stood over the sink, her breath unsteady. She wondered if the arrangement would exact a price one day. True, Genji’s re-engineered body was a cutting-edge blend of organic and synthetic. The DNA meshing had enabled them to build neural fibres as close to human as technology had ever come. Almost miraculously, Genji could walk, sprint, leap with greater power and precision than ever before. Reyes was already plotting imminent use of the 'asset’. Angela bit her lip at the thought of saving a man, only to send him out to kill. 

Over and above the moral ramifications, something wasn’t right. Genji’s flesh was still devoid of sensation. And these days, his gaze reminded Angela of an omnic’s unblinking surveillance. Soulless. 

1000hrs, the scheduled appointment. Genji wasn’t in the therapy room, waiting to be connected to the cradle. Heart racing, Angela made a call to security, who located him in the central sector of the facility. She deliberated informing Morrison, her imagination running wild. Had he gone rogue? No, that was irrational. Maybe he just wanted time alone. 

He was sitting in the central courtyard, an area open to the elements. She approached hesitantly, and he spoke without turning. “A few nights ago. You and the other doctor were talking about the reasons for my recovery, that they should be kept secret.”

Angela tried not to wince. She and Moira had been three rooms away, supposedly out of earshot. Of course, his hearing had been augmented. Like a fallible human, she’d forgotten that. “Scientists just don’t like to reveal too much before we publish our papers. Why don’t you come in? We need to do your daily sync." 

"Shimada Industries had biotech interests. I’ve heard enough about DNA meshing to know you broke the laws you claim to uphold. Blackwatch, Reyes, O'Deorain… they don’t care what methods they use. But you…? You and Morrison are supposed to be the straight arrows. Was this all a lie from the start?”

 _If you spare us the hypocrisy…_ Moira’s patronising comment came back to her. Angela shivered. The unpredictable April weather was turning the courtyard into a well of gloom. Grey clouds would soon bring rain. “Sometimes, a doctor has to make a call in saving a life. I don’t regret it.” Despite her resolve her voice broke. "Don’t make me regret it, Genji.” 

Genji regarded her a moment. “When I was very young, my mother got sick. My father held grand rituals in the temple to pray for her recovery. I didn’t care who was listening, I just swore that if she healed, I would give my own life in return. Even if I had to sell my soul to a demon, I would do it without hesitation.” He smiled bitterly, and the scars on his face puckered. “She died." 

Angela took this in wordlessly.

"I’ve believed in nothing - _felt nothing_ - _cared about nothing_ \- long before Hanzo killed me. Now, you are telling me to believe, you are asking me to feel." Was it anger? Reproach? His voice was so calm. 

The patter of droplets on the paving stones, and a sharp gust of mountain wind. In seconds the rain was coming down in earnest, seeping through Angela’s thin lab coat and the shirt within. 

Water dripped through Genji’s hair and down his back, rivulets glinting like quicksilver on carbon fibre. He turned his palm upward, flexing his fingers, as if there was some unseen heart pumping in its grasp. 

“Every drop of rain,” he whispered. “I feel them. And I will believe.“

~


End file.
